Addiction
by itouch
Summary: A Blood Elf rogue discovers more than she expects on the shores of Azuremyst Isle. HJ, M/F, Oral, Other, *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

**_Addiction_**_: ad·dic·tion –noun, the state of being enslaved to a habit or practice or to something that is psychologically or physically habit-forming, to such an extent that its cessation causes severe trauma._

Azuremyst Isle. The name conjured an image of quiet serenity, a serenity that the land, torn through with the fallen shrapnel of alien spacecrafts, did little to reflect.

It was here that she had been sent by her people, a task, a journey to scout out and find what information she could on the newest of their recent opponents. A strange people, falling from the sky itself.

But she cared little for the sky, the earth, her people or her mission. Let them be what they would be, let them roam where they would roam. To her, there was little in her mind but the hunt, the kill, the coins that were due her for whatever unsavory task she'd picked up along the way. There was a dearth of unsavory tasks as of late, which was the only reason she'd agreed to this mission. It paid well. Far too well to allow to slip by.

She was one of the _sin'dorei_, the Blood Elves, the leftover remnants of what had once been a thriving nation of strong and powerful beings. Magic was in their veins, it coursed through their very beings, to the point where they craved it. Needed it. Most sin'dorei chose a life of magic, following the path their enslaved bodies naturally pulled them towards. She chose instead to be a thief. A rogue. The shadows suited her. Stark white hair cropped messily with a dagger when it got in her way, pale skin stretched across a lithe frame, she had little want or need for the sun - the sun only got in the way. And here, on this island, the sun rarely shone. Which also suited her.

She had found nothing as of yet that would be of any interest to her people. What she wanted to find more than anything that evening was something to eat, and thus she was on the hunt for a different sort of prey - the edible kind.

The deer she had chosen stood grazing atop a distant hill, with enough brush to conveniently hide her progress as she closed in on the creature. With silence cloaking her, she lifted her bow, aimed carefully...and the deer started and ran. Cursing under her breath, the rogue crept forward in an attempt to see what had frightened her dinner away.

Which provided the wolf creeping up behind her with an excellent opportunity to attack the distracted elf. Whirling at the last possible second, she dropped to her back, kicking her legs and propelling the wolf over her head, then rolled and stood, bracing herself for another attack. The wolf hungrily obliged, snarling and racing forward, she slashed, it bit, back and forth the dance went. She tired faster than normal, her body already weak with hunger, and as the wolf charged her again for the umpteenth time she felt her knees give way - giving a snarl of her own, she reached within, pulling every last ounce of energy she had left and managed to deliver a fatal blow to the wolf as it leapt for her, the body falling abruptly and knocking her back, landing painfully on her rump.

As she dragged herself to her feet, panting and wondering whether or not wolf would be an acceptable substitute for deer, the ground beneath her shook. In a moment of chaotic terror she tumbled as the earth collapsed beneath her, the ledge the two had been fighting on giving out under the force of her final landing.

The world spun in a mad whirlwind of color, and then there was only blackness.

--

He was a survivor first and foremost. Next, he was a paladin, a follower of the Light. After this, he was a solitary one, never too eager to hunt with the others or stay in the glimmering city his people had somehow managed to forge here on this strange planet. It was because of this that he had been sent, alone, to patrol and watch the borders of this island they had made into a makeshift home. It was a boring task, but it suited him immensely - he could help his people as he preferred, from afar.

When their home had fallen from the sky, he was certain that he would not survive - and when he awoke, blinking at the wan light of the island they'd careened into, there was a part of him, an angry part of him, that wished that none of them had awoken at all. The alliance with the creatures that already populated this planet was shaky at best - the night elves, humans, even the dwarves and gnomes immediately distrustful of his kind. And who would he be, to blame them? His people, so similar in appearance to those that had warred with these creatures time and time again, were strange, different, exotic to these creatures, and more than a little frightening. He himself was a rather dashing - in his opinion - member of his race, taller than most, four strong tendrils jutting from his chin, long dark hair that he kept pulled in a neat ponytail and out of the way, a strong, broad chest that bespoke his strength when crossed. It was rare that any crossed him, moreso now than ever.

He had taken up this post at his own request, wishing only to be alone, serve the Light as best he knew how, and try to rationalize, in his own mind, why they were here - and why their gods, in all their wisdom, had allowed this to happen to his kind. There were still many survivors awakening all the time - and still more dead to be brought in, counted, mourned. This senseless act made no...sense. The Light was all that was good, all that was pure and kind, and he was certain the answers he sought would be answered in good time, he merely needed to be patient.

And thus it was with a certain sense of dread that he heard the collapse of the cliff, near one of the ruined pods that he had made into a temporary home of sorts, and sought out what had made it fall. And with even more dismay, he happened upon the still form of the blood elf, lying in the rubble.

He stood over her, staring, considering, his eyes glowing grimly. She was so...small, smaller than he'd been led to believe. First there was a flare of anger, for it was her kind that had caused the accident in the first place - and then guilt at his anger. Her kind, the elves of this planet, had nothing to do with the elves that had sabotaged their home. And this elf, this tiny, pale thing, was in no way responsible for what had occurred. He shook his head. A paladin, a noble warrior of the Light was considerate to all species, and he had trained himself in the art of compassion - compassion for all creatures, regardless of background, origin, or species. Leaving the thing to die would be an act of callousness and unkindness that he could not forgive himself for.

Drawing himself up to his full, formidable height, he stepped closer, noting her careful breathing, and picked her up gently. It was moments like this, interacting with those not of his kind, whether elf or human or deer or bear that he realized how delicate this world and the beings on it truly were. Shaking his head, he bore her to his makeshift home, settling her comfortably on the bed within, checking to make sure she still drew breath, and then leaving to find both food and water for them both as he was certain she would need nourishment upon awakening.


	2. Chapter 2

She awoke, cold and disoriented. She remembered falling, she remembered the wolf, she remembered seeing the ground rushing up to greet her - and then darkness. Her eyes refused to focus as she groaned, blinking, and as they adjusted, the air about her seemed to glow from some unknown source - had she died? Was this somewhere beyond death?

The world suddenly came into focus, and with a painful start she realized the glow was not the afterlife, whatever that might be, but something much, much worse - the curious lighting of the innards of one of the spacecrafts of those she had been sent to observe. Obviously in her foolishness she had gotten caught. Eyes narrowing, she reviewed her situation. One of her precious daggers was gone, presumably still in the corpse of the wolf she'd killed - but the other was neatly tucked away in her belt. Why they hadn't thought to remove it she neither knew nor cared about - all that mattered was that she had some sort of protection. She'd viewed these creatures from afar, and their resemblance to the Eredar of the Burning Legion was...she hated to admit it, but it frightened her. She'd heard tales, quietly spoken over campfires and in hushed tones in many an inn of the Legion and its dealings. Although she was not a stranger to dark and disreputable tasks, dabbling in the black arts and demons were something far beyond her ken.

One leg moved slowly off the bed, and she sat up, trembling with effort. The world once again seemed to whirl around her as she stood and abruptly sagged against the bed, a myriad of pains wracking her. The fall must have hurt her somehow, and the injuries from the wolf weren't helping either. Shaking with effort, she drew her dagger, green eyes glittering and made for the door. It wasn't far, she encouraged herself. Just two handspans of steps. _I can do this._ One...two...three...

On the fourth step she stumbled, her foot tripping over a crack in the floor, and collapsed entirely, biting her lip to keep from crying out, the dagger skittering across the polished floor. Her sides ached with a fire she'd never felt before, she must have at least broken a rib or two, if not more in that fall - and her head ached with a fierceness only compounded by the cuts and scrapes the wolf had engraved into her flesh. Cursing softly under her breath, she attempted to draw herself to her feet once more, a strangled cry flying from her lips unfettered as pain wracked her body. _I can do this, I can do this, come on, up and out and you're free-_

It was then that a shadow fell over her, the soft clack of something striking the floor in front of her, and she cracked her eyes, gasping both in pain and at the sight of a hoof. Her eyes widened reflexively in fear as she stared up, one of _them_ towering over her, the carcass of some unfortunate creature slung over its back like a child's plaything, blood casually spattered across its armor. Hissing in fear, she reached for her dagger, clawing frantically at the smooth floor, crying out involuntarily in pain at the movement and shuddering at the sound of the corpse hitting the floor as the beast took another step towards her, reaching out to strike its hoof, crying out in agony again and finally curling up upon herself, gritting her teeth and preparing for what she was sure to be the killing blow. No tears. Never tears, never show vulnerability, that was for the weak.

A cold hand brushed her hair from her face. A cold, gentle hand. She bit her lip harder, a small trickle of blood distracting her momentarily from the pain. It - no, not it, he, she realized - spoke, quietly, his tone oddly soothing, and slipped his arms under her, lifting her with no effort at all and placing her once more upon the bed she'd awoken on before. As he laid her there, hands placing her body comfortably with care, she stole a glance at his face.

They looked so _much_ like the Eredar. They really did. But this...creature, whatever he was, he was not one of them. Of this she was certain. The color was wrong, and his eyes...he noticed her gaze and returned it, quietly and without judgement, his expression neutral and even. His eyes glowed with an inner light that was not unlike the fire that lit her own, and he didn't appear to mean her harm, for whatever reason. Another spasm of pain wracked her, and she gritted her teeth to forstall the groan that desperately wanted to escape her lips.

--

She was hurt. He knew she would be, but he hadn't considered the extent of her injuries in his careful perusal of her form. When he came back from his hunt, she had been lying on the floor, helpless as a cub when he'd come in. He hadn't expected her to awaken so soon, nor had he expected her to try and move. Her feeble attempts at an attack would have been laughable to others, to him it was cause for concern - she obviously wasn't thinking clearly, and the dark stains on her clothing betrayed the seriousness of her injuries. He'd lifted her once more to the bed, noting with dismay her steadfast refusal to show any sign of pain. Strong, this one was, but decidedly alien to him, and he did not know if the healing energies he'd mastered would work on one not of his kind. But at the very least, he could try.

He closed his eyes, concentrating on the energies that lived within him and calling upon the Light to guide him, his hands hovering gently over her abused belly, and willed them to work, carefully knitting her tortured form back together. His hands glowed with an ethereal light as he worked, warming to the task, trying to work around the unfamiliar creature as best he could. Bones, he could try to knit back together, flesh he would try to mend. At the very least he could lessen her pain to the extent that she could rest and heal on her own.

What he didn't expect and didn't know what to make of was her reaction - as the energies flowed from him to her, she gasped and he looked up at her with concern, afraid he was harming her somehow - but the expression on her face was not that of one in pain. Her eyes were closed, back arching in what, with _his_ kind, could only be described as the exultant pleasure usually experienced by physical contact of a very _different_ kind. She moaned then, her body writhing with a will of its own, uncontrollable as he did his best to heal her, her cries growing to a fever pitch, and when he was satisfied that he'd made some sort of progress on her ribs he stopped, glancing up at her again only to see her staring at him in shock.

The thin trickle of blood from her bruised lip was something simple he could also take care of, and so he reached for her head, his hand dwarfing it. She clenched her eyes tightly shut as he did so, apparently expecting him to harm her somehow. Muttering soothing reassurances, he cupped his other hand on the other side of her face, the healing energies flowing between them and closing the wound. She moaned again, a low, erotic sound that played like a song to his ears and stirred something primal in him, something that hadn't been heeded in a very, very long time, and he quashed it, concentrating on the work at hand.

When at last he finished, moving his hands away, she lay there limp and panting in exhaustion, her eyes flying open once more to stare at him, her eyes tired but her expression one of shock and...satiation. She couldn't seem to keep her eyes focused though, her gaze growing wearier by the second as the activities of the day seemed to sink in, and he shook his head, gently closing her eyes and stroking her soft hair as she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Shaking his head again, he moved to the carcass he'd let drop to the floor earlier to tend to it and the mess he'd made while the tiny creature slept.


	3. Chapter 3

Six days had passed. In those six days, the elf had slowly recovered from her fall, lying on the only bed in the strange pod-like housing that the draenei called home. Six days of being coddled by said draenei, who did not seem to wish her harm, instead carefully feeding her when she was unable to do so herself, applying bandages to the wounds he was unable to heal, all the while watching her with quiet, gentle, and unnerving eyes of bright blue. Six days to think, and think she did.

He had surprised her, that first day - she'd expected him to kill her as casually as he'd killed the deer that he prepared and fed to her after she'd awoken a second time, but instead he seemed intent on healing her. His reasoning she did not know, and his language was as strange to her as the language of the night elves, but he insisted on 'talking' to her as he went about his business in the lonely pod, his voice oddly reassuring as he left for whatever it was he did during the day. He'd had ample amount of time to get rid of her, but seemed content with making sure she was comfortable and fed and taken care of - and he made no effort at all to restrain her, although with the severity of her injuries that was hardly necessary.

Two days passed, and she felt as though she could leave, possibly, and she tried - her ribs on the other hand had very different ideas and ached painfully when she tried to stand, so she remained on the bed, watching him warily and observing him while she thought he wasn't looking. He was tall - big as a tauren really, his skin an exotic shade of blue that seemed more vibrant than that of a troll - his hair was dark, and he kept it pulled back out of his face - suitable for a fighter, really. The strange tendrils that seemed to pass for facial hair on his kind were odd to her, she couldn't determine if they were just extra bits of flesh, or if they were appendages, or some third thing...and the thoughts that lazily circled her mind as to what that third thing could be were erotic enough to make her blush.

The reason she stayed, she told herself quite firmly, was that it was the easiest way to complete her mission - observe the enemy, they told her, and observe it she would, from a much closer standpoint than she thought she'd be able to obtain. So far, it seemed as though there was little to report, the creature didn't seem to wish her ill, and she wondered if it was because he and his kind didn't hold the same animosity toward her kind as the horde held toward them, or because he was as indifferent to the wishes of his people as she was to her own. Or...some third reason.

It was over the course of the next three days that she pondered this third reason, the one that made her body tingle deliciously when she thought about it, both from guilt and from the haunting memory of his hands dancing over her body. She hadn't expected him to try and heal her, she'd expected him to smash her head in with the nearest blunt object, and his hands...

...that light...

She frowned, tilting her head and staring fixedly at the walls. She'd been healed before, many times over by many different people, but when he'd touched her - he hadn't touched her really, it merely felt as though he did, but when he healed her, the sheer amount of energy coursing from him to her was overpoweringly sweet and vivid.

Her kind was addicted to magic. They craved it, they needed it to survive. Kael and his followers had gone to the wretched ruins of Draenor to seek a cure for it, for those that progressed too far into the siren call were warped into echoes of themselves, bodies twisted into a horrifying mockery of the noble creatures they once were. She'd encountered some of them near Silvermoon, and their caustic cries and sheer focus on one thing, and one thing only - the magic, the arcane, the sweet torrent of power rushing around and through them, remained in her mind, the memories far too distressing to simply forget about. A magic user she was not, it was a path she steadfastly refused to follow, but it still called to her, and she still had to answer to it, and she did - feeding off of the most insignificant of creatures, draining them of the energies they carried. She hated it, hated being dependant on it, but she needed it to survive. She would not succumb to the madness, she would not become one of those creatures that roamed the ruins of Silvermoon.

And at the end of the fourth day that she felt the pang, the need to sate the hunger within her. Her body was still not up to the task of moving, so she quashed the craving, attempting to ignore it, and concentrated instead on getting well enough to get out of there. Once she could move, she could leave. It was only a matter of time.

Time was working against her.

On the sixth day, she lay on the bed, sweat-drenched and pale, trembling with weakness. Her body had betrayed her, the call of magic loud, insistent, insidious, and she was no longer able to simply ignore it, nor was she able to move enough to find something to sate it. And it was with the knowledge of what she would become, the memory of those warped creatures vivid in her mind's eye, that sheer desperation drove her to near madness, and drove her to doing the one unthinkable thing that she never wanted to do.

The draenei approached her as always, calmly uttering soothing words in that strange language of his, and stared at her with obvious concern. She stared up at him blankly, half-mad with confusion and weakness, her green eyes flaring wildly and unfocused. Here was not her rescuer, here was a vessel, brimful of that arcane source that she craved, and as he leaned closer, placing a gigantic hand on her forehead, she reacted. Her hands moved in an impressive blur of speed to clutch at his head-

-and his free hand snapped up reflexively, catching both her wrists and holding them above her head. She twisted in anger, teeth clenched and body thrashing, but he merely removed his hand from her forehead, wiping the sweat away and shaking a finger at her with a gentle smile and shake of his head.

It was all too much, and she collapsed, weeping as the knowledge of her fate loomed over her. She barely had the energy to do that.

He shook his finger, then his head, drawing back. He knew about her kind, and expected her to try something like this when he came in and realized what had happened - of course she hadn't been improving. He felt stupid for forgetting, in the pleasantness of the past few days, about the basic needs of her kind. The elf surprised him by falling limp, dangling above the bed where he held her firmly by the wrists, and bursting into quiet and angry tears. The sobs were heartbreaking, and he stared at her unhappily. He couldn't let her do what she wished. Perhaps he could restrain her and find her something she could use, distasteful as the notion was to him. Shuffling uncomfortably, he placed his hand to her cheek again, eyes glowing with concern, and leaned forward to place a reassuring and consoling kiss on her forehead, like a father with a fitful daughter.

Well, he had meant it as reassuring and consoling. Her reaction was anything but daughterly - she drew a sharp breath, staring up at him, sheer wonder on her features, her eyes wide and hungry, then slowly her lids dropped as she arched her back, reaching for him - and it seemed only natural that he press his lips to her pouting ones, only natural that their tongues dance together, only natural that his free hand fall to her side, caressing her curves...

And as he felt that stirring from deep within once more, he thought to himself that there was a much better way, a simpler way to feed her craving than hunting a creature down and giving her that.

The lusty look in her eyes agreed with him.


	4. Chapter 4

His hand trailed down her side almost gingerly as they shared another intense kiss, her body trembling beneath his fingers. When at last they broke, her eyes bore into his with an intensity bordering on madness. A distraction, that was what she needed, and he seemed willing to provide her with one - she only hoped it was enough to negate the ache, the pang of arcane hunger roaring within her. Impatiently, she yanked against his hand, still encircled by his massive grip, and he smiled again at her, gently, and shook his head. Puzzled and frustrated, she wriggled again, but the glow in his eyes intensified - ah, he enjoyed this. With a low purr her movements shifted from frustration to enticement, and his free hand did what she could not, removing the leather halter she wore with an effortless twist and baring her breasts to his still gentle caresses, the nipples already pebbling in the cool air.

She was stunning, he noted absentmindedly as he continued to pet her soft skin, and more than willing to let him disrobe her. His eyes trailed to her breasts as he eagerly tore off the garment, leaning in for another kiss and grasping one of the plush orbs, his thumb lightly stroking one hardened nipple as she moaned with delight around his probing tongue. His lips smiled against hers, and with a small amount of concentration, he willed the healing energies to his fingertips. With a quirk of an eyebrow, he slid one softly glowing, golden finger delicately over her nipple.

Her reaction was immediate, she drew back, shock dancing over her features, but it was quickly replaced by pure ecstasy as the energies flowed into her. This, this was sheer joy like she'd never experienced before, and she wanted more of it, oh so much more of it, but his hand still held hers entrapped, and his lips moved from her own, sliding down her neck and further as he took her other nipple into his mouth, warming it with soft licks before suckling at it. She moaned, her eyes closing as he continued to play with her breasts, her back arching instinctively as she writhed beneath him.

As much as he pondered the delightful implications of doing this all day, the smell of her arousal was heady in the air and urging him to continue on, and he did, pulling her pants off as easily as the halter before them, his hands still glowing as he trailed his fingers down her side and over her thigh, moving to suckle the other hardened nipple and running a finger over her lips, her legs parting all too eagerly for him. With a groan of appreciation at her willingness to please, he grazed his finger over the sensitive nub of her clit. Where normally keeping the energies flowing would take an inordinate amount of concentration, now there was merely an effortless flow, urged on by the feral wail that sprang from her lips in reaction to that simple touch.

The orgasm that shook her was at once unexpected and easily the most enjoyable experience of her life to date, his touch arousing her beyond all comprehension and the energy caressing and filling her, soothing the ache within her with none of the guilt usually associated with sating that hunger. And as she panted, thighs shaking as the pleasure ebbed, she knew there was nothing more that she wanted than to be filled by him, completely and utterly. His face was still a serene mask of contentment, and he leaned in to kiss her again, releasing her hands finally and allowing her to run them through his hair, over his bare, smooth back, clutching him to her as she mewled urgently at him, grasping at his pants and tugging urgently at them. This was not over, oh no, not yet.

He grinned then, a smile that could be frightening to some, unnerving to others, and helped her remove his pants, letting them fall to the floor as he sprung forth, fully awakened. Her eyes trailed over the length and girth of him, mental calculations evidently not adding up in her head as they widened at the sheer size of him. Smiling again, he slid his hand over her eager lips once more, parting her legs and running a finger over her slick entrance, probing experimentally. The urgent noises she made and the eager thrust of her hips indicated her readiness, and he slid the thick digit in, slowly, letting her tight walls adjust to the size as he danced the finger in and out of her to her satisfied moans of joy.

Her eyes lit eagerly on his glistening cock, and her hands reached out to grasp at it, stroking it deftly and crooning with delight as a thick bead of precum oozed from the tip. Her fingers swept it up and she lifted them to her lips, lapping cautiously at the alien juices. To her surprise, the taste was simliar to that of her own kind, a bit sweeter perhaps, and she closed her eyes, savoring it only to open them again at his soft groan, his own eyes darkening with need as he watched her taste of him. She moved her hands to his shaft once more, squeezing him gently and continuing to stroke him, faster and faster as the pleasure his finger was giving her threatened to overpower her once more.

He grunted as her tiny hands encircled his cock, his hips rocking as she stroked him, and carefully worked a second finger into her tight pussy, gauging her reaction. She moaned, her face a stark contrast of both pain and pleasure, and he concentrated again, willing the energies into her, her cries growing louder and more urgent as her hands moved faster and faster over him. No longer patient to wait, he pulled his fingers from her, causing her to cry out in dismay, a cry that turned to a moan of joy as he moved, positioning himself at her entrance. His hands cupped her breasts roughly, thumbs circling over her nipples and with little warning at all he entered her, sliding into her hot depths.

Dear gods, she had never been so full, his cock thrusting into her, slow but insistent, his whole body glowing now, soft and golden, the light pouring from him into her as he began to move faster in and out of her. His eyes were mad with desire, boring into her own as he plunged in and out, and her body was no longer her own, back arching, legs wrapping tightly around this glowing god that took her and gave her what she so desperately craved, the arcane and the erotic combining into one deft orchestra of movement and sound, the two of them panting as one, moaning as one, and when she came again, clenching tightly around him, he fairly roared with need and burst forth within her, a torrent of cum rushing into her, filling her, the golden light with it, threatening to overflow and burst forth...

He rolled off of her, exhausted and panting, and she rolled atop him, exhausted and panting and so terribly terribly sated as she'd never been before, covering his chest with soft kisses and murmurs of gratitude before she collapsed into a sound and dreamless sleep, the first night of real sleep she'd had in months. He stroked her hair, watching her heavy eyes close, feeling her go limp against him, and drifted off himself.

In the morning, she awoke, cold. He was gone, the strange pod stripped completely empty of all trace of life save for her clothing neatly folded on the table, her daggers neatly placed on top of them, a bag of supplies and rations left next to them, and a plate of food left considerately next to that.


	5. Chapter 5

_Three months later..._

Her lips clasped sweetly around his cock, her delicate pink tongue darting out to lap at the engorged head, fluttering over the tip and sampling the precum drooling from it as he groaned his appreciation. Her eyes bored into his and without warning she slid her mouth down the length of him, tongue furiously working the shaft as her hands helped along. All he could hear was the low hum of pleasure as she suckled him, pumping her wet mouth eagerly over him, her breasts softly brushing against him, hardened nipples grazing his thighs. Her hot mouth clasped him tightly, the short and messy tuft of downy white hair atop her head swaying before him as she worked his enormous shaft, and with another groan of pleasure he felt it, the orgasm approaching, his cock throbbing in reaction, the cum rushing forth to spill into her eager mouth as she moaned in delight-

-and he woke with a start, sitting upright on the stone slab he had made into a makeshift bed, his breath misting in the air before him as he panted, body shuddering with reaction. Three months it had been since that night, the night he had quietly packed his belongings and traveled to the Exodar to request a reassignment. He couldn't stay there, not after the events that had transpired in the small pod he called home. It had been an act of mercy, he told himself, and when the offer came to secure a small watchpost in Winterspring, just outside of Darkwhisper Gorge, he'd gratefully taken it. He had needed time to think, and time to get away. And Winterspring was as far away as he could get at that time.

In time, he thought of her less and less, and the more he dutifully studied the Light and all of its intricacies from the three large tomes he had brought with him, the less he thought of her. This, this was right, this was what he needed - to absolve himself in service to his people, and to forget the regretful transgression that had occurred. Pleasant as it may have been, there was still something incorrect about it, something that tugged at the back of his mind that he couldn't quite pin down - and he had no intention of letting his body's wanton desires lead him to more...errors in judgement.

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts once more of the heated dream that still haunted his vision - it had seemed so real he could have sworn she was there, just out of the corner of his eye, watching him with that look of hers. But a careful survey of the cave he called home showed no trace of a visitor, blood elf or otherwise. Which was as it should be.

And he took one of the tomes back to bed with him, and read until his eyes were tired enough to shut again of their own accord, and slept. This time, he did not dream.

--

And in the town of Everlook, a pale white hand gave over a sizable amount of gold to a nonchalant goblin who pointed the way to the delicate creature before him. Emerald eyes regarded him cautiously, measuring the relative truth that the creature spoke, and satisfied, she turned and went on her way, mounting one of the odd birds her people preferred to ride and heading out, the snow softly crunching under the feet of the creature.

The goblin shook his head, watching her go and pocketing the gold. Her business with the person he'd given her directions to was no business of his - and that draenei looked as if he could use some spice of some sort - be it a fight or...something else that the little creature didn't really want to ponder for too long - the last time he'd come through Everlook the draenei had been, as always, pale and reserved. And boring.

The goblin grinned as an early morning blizzard began to fall, the flurries muffling the quiet sounds of the town. Either way, he'd be damned if he turned down an easy profit.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been three months, and in those three months she had fucked two shaman - a troll and an orc, the troll had been her original intent, she'd watched him fairly stalk up the streets of Orgrimar with interest - but when he asked if his friend could join with those glittering eyes and that sly grin of his she could hardly say no. And the experience hadn't been unpleasant at all, to the contrary they'd both been eager to try her unusual request, and as they'd gone at her from every angle the two of them could come up with, the green glowing energies of earth twisting around their writhing bodies, she'd certainly enjoyed it.

At first, it had just been the troll, he'd fairly ripped her clothes from her once they'd found a secluded area in the Drag, and immediately started eagerly lapping at her sweet pussy with soft persistent growls, and when the orc had arrived as promised, he spent a good deal of time simply watching them, stroking his cock as she writhed and moaned. Evidently he decided she made too much noise, as one moment she'd closed her eyes in ecstasy, the next she opened them to find his cock dangling in front of her. She took it in eagerly, the thick rod muffling her moans until the troll pulled his tongue away from her slick folds and without warning thrust his own impressive tool into her. The two played with her like this for hours, occasionally swapping places, all three worked into a frenzy of movement accompanied by the tickling lights of their spells until they'd both pulled back and finished, jerking off on her shuddering body until she was fairly coated with their cum, licking it off her fingers with satisfaction. Yes, she'd certainly enjoyed it.

But a small, detached, measuring part of her watched the experience from afar even as it occurred and despite being pleasant, it fell short of what she'd been hoping for. She'd thanked them and they'd waved her off with pleasant smiles and promises to meet up and do it again sometime - though all three of them knew said promises would never be fulfilled.

In the meantime, she'd found small ways to sate the craving within her, feeding when and where she could. A month later, she'd returned to Silvermoon with her report - that the strange creatures of Azuremist Isle didn't really seem to be particularly intent on wiping out her race, indeed they seemed much more concerned with saving their own - and she'd accepted her payment along with another offer for more gold should she come across any more information of...value.

She hadn't really considered it, but when she'd noticed a pair of yellow eyes glinting with lust as she strode down the darkened streets of Murder Row, watching the carefully placed swagger of her hips, the thought occurred to her that perhaps she could recreate that...unusual experience with one of her own kind - after all, they were using the same 'light' as the paladin she'd...

...and she'd stopped, staring fixedly at the banners and sculpture ahead, her mind decidedly elsewhere. Elsewhere being flat on her back on that strange makeshift bed as he plunged in and out of her, his eyes still glowing with the same gentle look he'd given her that first day he'd found her collapsed on the floor, only this time there was an undertone of desire, of need, not the urgent call that she was experiencing but a different sort of need that he took as he filled her, light weaving over and between the two of them in an intricate dance...

...her reverie was broken by a low cough - those golden eyes belonged to an equally golden body with golden hair pulled back in an impressive crest, perched on a steed that was decidedly NOT golden at all - she'd heard tales of the blood knight's steeds, but she hadn't seen one up close before, and while she would've liked to study it further, the sly lift of an eyebrow and cock of the head to a secluded set of stairs that led to an equally secluded set of bedchambers had her loins throbbing urgently, and with a quirk of her eyebrow and tilt of her head she nodded, following him to his quarters. Clothing was stripped methodically, and as their bodies pressed together and he led her to the bed, as his fingers entwined with hers, as he positioned himself atop her, she leaned in to whisper her desires into his ear. He grinned, leaning down to nip at her neck in silent agreement.

What followed should have been pleasant. She should have known better. Blood elf males, while beautiful to look at and arrogantly proud of their prowess, were terrible lovers, unimaginative and uninspired. His reaction to her request had gotten her hopes up but his efforts were futile - between his utter...lack of any kind of respectable size and his inability to concentrate on more than one thing at a time, his arousal quickly lost as he concentrated on calling the energies to him, she was left with nothing to do but impatiently grasp his cock, stroking it to full length and lie there, trying to look enthralled as he hastily hammered at her.

She left shortly thereafter, traveled back to Kalimdor - Silvermoon held nothing for her. In desperation she'd found a tauren druid who was attentive, sweet, and utterly enchanted by this tiny creature and her odd requests. He treated her like a doll, fragile and soft, bathing her gingerly in his home, rubbing soft oils into her skin and then delicately making love to her - it was sweet, and pleasant, and he'd been an apt and pleasing lover, his size making up for the lack of...light...

...really, that had to have been the difference. His cock was huge, he stuffed her to capacity, much like the paladin had, and he'd been eager and gentle at the same time, much like the paladin had, but the difference between the paladin's commanding presence and the druid's was simply too large to ignore. She'd left him two days later - quietly slipping away as he slept, leaving him with nothing more than a note sweetly thanking him for his time and the scent of her on his pillows.

After that, she'd wandered.

She hadn't been consciously looking for him - she'd been travelling, she'd been taking odd jobs, she'd been doing the occasional seedy favor here and there, aimlessly moving through the Barrens, through Ashenvale, up into the tortured landscape of Felwood, savagely feeding off of the satyrs that dwelt within, when she heard...stories. People talked, and one night, over a quiet campfire at the small horde outpost, a fellow traveler from Winterspring mentioned seeing one of the strange new members of the Alliance, a paladin...

...she was off the next morning, weaving her quiet way through the tunnels of the furblog, stepping out into the quiet hush of snowfall and it was just her job that brought her here - after all, they'd told her that they'd pay for more information, and this was information of interest, the creatures were obviously not confined to Azuremist Isle and were on the move. It certainly had nothing to do with the odd leap she felt in her chest when she heard the young tauren's tale.

And nothing to do with the pang of desire she felt.

Nothing at all.

And so it was, three months later, as dawn broke glaringly over the brilliant ever-white landscape, flakes of snow softly hushing all other noise that she found herself atop a hill overlooking a cave, a cave that may or may not hold the selfsame creature who'd taken her three months before. She dismounted, sending her hawkstrider away with a pat to the rump and quietly stole down to the entrance, stealthing reflexively as she crept inside.

Two things of importance she noted right off the bat - firstly, the occupant of the cave was not currently at home, and secondly and with another peculiar leap in her chest the confirmation she had been looking for was given to her - the scent was the same, the feel was the same, and though the cave was permeated with cold, his presence still filtered through the cold. It was the same creature - the same man.

It was at this point that she stalled out, her breath hotly fogging in the chilled air. She'd found him. Now what? She hadn't really thought about it, and as she pondered this, silently cursing herself for being a fool, she tried to fathom some sort of a plan. Perhaps she could...arrange another injury, this one more convenient. Perhaps he wouldn't remember her. Perhaps...

Perhaps she should simply turn around and go home, as this was sheer, sheer madness. Madness indeed, and her eyes lit on the stack of books that the paladin studied. She moved to them without thinking, opening the cover of the topmost and running her fingers gingerly over the text, written in an unintelligible language that she couldn't make heads or tails of. Strange characters, glyphs almost, were etched into the pages, and pictures here and there of glimmering beings, not the paladin's kind, but other...what were they? They were fascinating...but she couldn't make out the text, and she turned the pages, engrossed. From what she could tell, this was some sort of holy text? Possibly? At the very least, she could fetch a pretty penny for it - it was exactly the sort of thing they were looking for over in Silvermoon, and she was certain the Blood Knights would be highly interested in it-

-and a hand clapped on her shoulder, lifting her painfully into the air as she struggled and squawked, spinning her to face a chest encased in glimmering plate, hot breath beating down on her, narrow eyes glowing with anger as the other hand ripped the hood from her head.

The change in his face was startling. At first, the furrowed brow, the angry glint, then one eyebrow slowly lifted, the other following as dumbfounded recognition fluttered across his features, next eyes closing, face unreadable, then snapping open again to stare at her and the forgotten book behind her, carelessly opened to a random page, in outrage.

Her gaze was fierce, uncomplicated, and unashamed. His shifted once more to anger, eyes closing again in a silent prayer and she wondered, fleetingly, what it would feel like to die-

-and abruptly he yanked her to him, crushing her lips and body against him and drowning her in beautiful, glimmering light


	7. Chapter 7

He was not consciously aware of making the decision, oh Light, no. One moment he was incensed, enraged, that one of those heathens would be viewing, reading, touching his precious tomes. The next, her scent hit him, the mask unable to hide her from him, and he tore it away, hands shaking, unsure. But her glittering eyes were the same emerald he remembered, her lips were the same pale softness he'd dreamed of, off and on, and her body was most definitely the same as he'd recalled in those sweat-soaked visions of twilight.

And in that instant, he no longer cared about the tomes, the Light, his people, or Azeroth itself. All he cared about was the insistent, raging pulse of his loins. He crushed his lips to her, drowning her in senses that were all too familiar, he acted. Not as draenei, being, thinking creature, but as raw, hungry animal.

When at last he pulled away, she stared up into his eyes, a faint glimmer of fear tinging the otherwise needy shade of green. He stared back, but his eyes were empty of compassion and gentility, a blank slate of fever-maddened lust - and in the next moment, he tore her clothes from her, effortlessly peeling the leather away as if it were paper and carrying her unresisting to the stone slab he had called 'bed' for the last three months, spilling her onto the furs and holding her there with his gaze as he removed the platemail he wore, piece by piece.

For her part, she seemed eager enough, stretching back into the furs and arranging herself in a pleasing manner for him, waiting patiently for him to finish disrobing, licking her lips every now and again, her delicate tongue darting out to wet them.

That eagerness faded to surprise and shock when he shrugged off the last of his armor, took her arms and tied them roughly above her head with a spare strip of fur. Panting, she watched him, wide-eyed and nowhere close to shivering as he then took one leg, tying it to one side of the stone slab. The other he left free, for what reason she couldn't determine but lost all thought on the matter as his lips closed down on one pebbled nipple, his hands squeezing the other, thumb grazing it roughly. Any response she had was lost in a joyous whimper of ecstasy as he switched sides, lavishing attention on first one, then the other...

And then there was _light_.

It dove from him to her, flowing from his lips, his fingers, tickling, caressing, warming her from within, feather-light on her body and throughout it - nobody understood why she was looking for this so badly - nobody had tried it before, whatever light-channeling technique this paladin had, it was his and his alone, and she was determined to have more of it. Squealing in frustration, she wrapped her free leg around his torso, rutting against him like a wolf in heat, and to her surprise and gratification, he pulled away from her nipples with a soft, wet sound, raising his head to stare in her eyes.

She'd expected them to glow, she'd expected them to sparkle, she hadn't expected the wolfish, almost feral grin as he propped her free leg on his shoulder and leaned down to dine on her pussy, his tongue darting inside her moist entrance, teasing and tasting her juices as his hands roamed freely over the rest of her. This was new. This was exciting. This was damned delicious. His fingers carefully stroked every inch of her awakened body, light fluttering from them to caress and softly tease every inch of her smooth skin. She moaned, a low, feral noise that awakened him further, and with a groan of appreciation, he slid one thick digit into her pussy, fingering it while he continued to lap and toy with her clit.

And then, there was more light, pouring within her, his finger dancing inside of her, her walls clinging to it as if to pull it deeper within and he obliged, pressing farther into her as his tongue continued to dance over her. Her cry shattered the still night air as her orgasm took her, her body shuddering around him as he continued to thrust into her. Panting, she felt the edge of it wear off when with no warning he pulled from her, pushing her leg up to her chest and positioning himself above her then driving his thick cock into her waiting entrance, enveloping himself in her juicy folds.

He held her there, pinned helplessly and impaled for a long moment as she wailed and whimpered, her breath coming in ragged gasps, and he looked at her, and the drive, the animalistic darkness in his eyes faded slowly away. Gently, he moved from her, and gently returned to her, his body rocking over her. Her hands twisted, and she attempted to slip them from their bonds but the fur held fast as he took her, over and over, his rhythm increasing to a fever pitch. The light arched between them, weaving around their naked bodies as they swayed to and from each other, giving to her what she so desperately had been craving for so long, and giving him...well giving him _something_.

Grunting, he increased the pace, his hand flying up to free her bonds, and her hands moved to his back to claw and rake it with urgency, another orgasm threatening - and when it broke, she could do nothing but shudder and sob in pleasure, limp in his arms. With a final determined thrust, he poured himself into her, roaring his release to the heavens as the light drained from him to her, then faded gradually, exhaustion setting in.

He rolled over, pulling her atop him, and she collapsed there as she did so many months before, content simply to lie there cheek to chest and listen to the cooling fervor of his heartbeat, loud against her ear. He stroked her hair, murmuring astonished and puzzled words that she didn't understand, and she raised a finger to his lips, rising enough to replace it with her own, a gentle kiss that held no trace of the urgency, the lust with which they'd clung to each other before. He watched the green eyes glitter and dim in the wan light of the cave as she fell asleep, her breath warm and soft against him, and the slow stirring of her breathing lulling him to sleep as best as any lullabye he'd heard as a babe.

--

In the morning, he awoke, cold and confused. She was gone, the cave echoingly empty without her, his tomes now closed and lovingly stacked atop each other, a plate of food left considerately next to them, and his eyes closed, his chest constricting...

In Everlook, the goblin looked to the south with a frown, the howls of some wild animal echoing over the hills. Shrugging, he went back to stocking the latest arrival of supplies - the travellers would need them.


	8. Chapter 8

_(...what, you thought I was done?)_

_Six months later..._

A sharp gasp followed by a started groan, the green leaves of Stranglethorn trembling, then falling to still silence. Pale fingers delicately picked over the body, deftly pulling anything of value from the pockets and pouches of rough leather that the troll carried. The corpse, still cooling, was left behind to rot in the shadows of the underbrush...

A lone and curious beam of sunlight wound its way through the thick layers of leaves and branches covering the lush forest, a warm breeze following it playfully. Two ears, pale and pointed seemed to stab the sky itself, two glittering green eyes peered over a mask of rough black leather. And as the sun delicately traced the line of her form, tickling beads of sweat from her pale skin, her eyes narrowed, and at once she slipped again into the shadows. If they could speak, the trees would note her passage, but they were silent as always, observing the elf from the height of the stars and saying nothing at all.

It had been six months since she slipped quietly away, six months since she had ridden from what he called his home, six months since she had felt the curious light pouring within her, and despite the insistent call of her body she'd ignored it, choosing instead to throw herself into her work.

Her work. Killing without a care, her bank near overflowing with the rewards of cold blooded murder. Gold, jewels, fine clothing, perfumes and herbs, poisons, weapons. The last time she'd visited the bank, the goblin had stared at the pile of materials she'd given him, patently wondering where he'd put it all. Never being one to question, he'd simply found someplace to stuff the items, although a lingering trace of curiosity flitted about the back of his mind at an elf that would squirrel away so much wealth and never withdraw a copper from it. Was she saving for a rainy day?

In truth, at first she'd been looking for a distraction. After a time, the distraction, the need fell away and all that was left was her, and her blades, glittering with enchantments, and blood, and death, and the shadows. Always the shadows. It wasn't necessary, her being in Stranglethorn, there were many a novice traveling through the area that could've used the fighting experience but she'd interceded and insisted on staying there. Outland and the otherworldly sights therein didn't interest her, once she'd laid eyes upon every sight there was to see she'd left, returning once more to Azeroth and its more familiar charms.

The sky whispered to itself, hushing the forest with a cooling mist of rain. The elf ducked under yet another convenient cropping of shrubs and moss, taking shelter under the roots of a tree that was likely hundreds of years her elder. Hugging her knees to her chest, she waited. Time was meaningless now - it had been ever since she left the cold north...she remembered that night every now and again, remembered the fierce desperation of his eyes, the fire within, remembered it every time she looked in a mirror and saw reflected the ache, the loss of control every time she had to feed...

The trolls of Stranglethorn proved to be weak adversaries, the shaman and voodoo priests offering her just enough magic to survive, the artifacts and scrolls, ancient tablets and spells, charms and hexes proving to be quite enough to make her a modest income. When the call of addiction sang to her, all she had to do was seek one out and take of it. It was enough, for her.

And as she remembered his eyes, she shivered. It was not her intent to torture him, it was not her intent to see him suffer - but his eyes reflected a madness whose closest cousins were the eyes of the Wretched, those that had fallen so far there was no hope of redemption...and she did not, could not be responsible for that.

And so she left, and so she stayed here, here in the quiet and shadows, the rich flora hiding her agreeably in the dirt and the musk of the forest. It was better this way. Better to leave him to his own devices, better to leave him before it was too late for him to save himself...

A loud crack of thunder split the sky in two, the dark of the forest lit stark and frightening for a moment, startling her from her reverie as the sky poured its disapproval, the torrential rain shouting from the heavens in thick sheets. Hugging herself closer, she wished she were closer to Booty Bay. There was no leaving her hiding place, yet - not when the weather was being this violent. And so she sat, staring at the dark outlines of the leaves as the sun hid behind angry clouds, watching them light with the lightning, then fade back to obscurity-

Another crack, another sharp flare of light, and her eyes widened. She shuffled back against the tree, burrowing against it, fervently hoping her eyes were deceiving her-

Another crack, and outlined in sharp relief, a hoof, tramping by her hiding place. It moved on. She relaxed-

Another crack, and the leaves above her pulled free, and she stared, up and up and farther still, an incomprehensible height at two burning eyes, blue fire, staring into her own...


	9. Chapter 9

_Six months earlier..._

He'd lost something, that day. Waking to find her gone. He'd howled like a beast, tearing the cave apart, hoping she was merely hiding away, watching, waiting...but to no avail. After the outburst, he sat quietly on the stone bunk, staring off into the distance.

And outside, it was snowing, the soft flakes delicately kissing the earth. The food was still untouched. He ate it.

The next day he packed his belongings, leaving the small outpost behind, reporting to his superiors at Everlook and requesting a change of scenery. And oh, how they gave him one. It is your turn to go, they said. To serve.

In Outland.

_Three weeks later..._

He remembered his home every now and again, the green fields, the lush wilderness. Nothing prepared him for the moment he stepped through the Portal however, the wind screaming in his ears as the magic pulled him through, violently ripping him from one world and placing him elsewhere - he wondered, briefly, if this was how it had been for the orcs, all those years ago. If they'd felt this when they first moved to Azeroth and started their savage campaigns. It was enough to drive anyone mad...

Red sky, ripped in twain, the stars seeming to bleed on the greater canvas of the open air above, hot winds howling...he blinked, taking it all in, the portal towering darkly behind him. Alliance and horde alike screamed bloody vengeance as a pit lord threatened to smash the small outpost in twain, screaming rains of infernals and other noxious beasts ripping the forces like tissue paper. Little by little, they fought back, human and orc, night elf and tauren, troll and dwarf and gnome and forsaken...

Blood elf and draenei...

The air caught thick in his throat as he struggled with the yearning that kept catching him off guard at inopportune moments. No. Not here. Not now.

And so he found the flight master, taking his orders and beginning the long trek through the horrors the fel orcs and pit lords had made of what was once his home...

_Two months later..._

A throaty moan sang in the back of her throat as he pounded her from behind, hips pistoning mechanically, his eyes dark and brooding. He barely made a sound at all as she caroled her orgasm to the sky, pussy clenching him, inviting, milking - and he released his load into her with a thick grunt, holding her horns for support as he drilled relentlessly into her. As he pulled from her, she rolled over, satisfied and purring, bidding him to come lie with her, next to her-

-but he was already into his armor. Emotionless, he tossed a few coins onto the mattress and left the inn. She toyed with them, cooing softly at the shining discs, then glanced out the window at his retreating form. Moody, that one was. But he paid well.

_Three months later..._

Golden light blinded the creature, and it roared its displeasure to the sky, lifting its paws to swipe ineffectively at its eyes, opening them just in time to see the mighty hammer crack down on its skull-

Panting, he rose. There was no Light in this. The virtues that used to sing through his body, humming at him as he worked, lifting his spirits even as he killed, allowing him to bless those that had fallen at his hands...blood coated them now, thick rivulets of the stuff soaking into the hardened plate - now tinged with rose from the sheer amount of corpses he'd left lie in his wake. No Light, no virtue, where had the song gone...

He knew. He knew it every time he visited Shattrath, seeing those thrice-damned Scryer riding around the city like they owned it, seeing the females, their hips swaying provocatively even as they performed the most simple of tasks. The Aldor, a noble branch of his people, had called this place home countless years before those damned elves had shown up and taken court...

...and with every sway of hip and lithe step, with every fluid gesture and flip of dainty tongue, with every movement the females made, his guts yearned for one, one set of hips, one alabaster hand, one pair of glittering eyes...

A'dal knew. Somehow. The Naaru were all seeing, and he should have known it was coming...the being spoke to him, and him alone, chiming gently from within the central circle. Telling him to forget, to let the Light soothe him, embrace him once more - and the bell-like call was tinged with sadness for it knew there was no going back, not for this warrior of the Light. What had happened, the Naaru could not pluck from his mind, but he knew there was something missing, and as the paladin continued with task after task, emotionless and ever more brutal, A'dal could feel him slipping away...

It was in Shattrath that he saw her. He knew it was her, the shock of white hair, the smell of her hitting him sharply, leaving him breathless like a blow to the gut. She crossed the central square, head bent low, counting coins in her deft little hands and without thinking he began to cross the square, to follow, to capture her once more-

-stout polearms crossed in front of him, the two horde guards looking at him disdainfully as she stepped into a portal, whereabouts unknown, back to Azeroth. Dazed, he shook his head, bowing it in narrow apology to the guards and turning away.

That night he lay in a roughshod bed, unable to sleep, sweating-drenched, pale and trembling. His eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling above, visions of her, naked below him, soft lips opening to sing her triumphant release to the heavens - the burning in his gut grew tighter and tighter - why could she not leave him be? Why had the Light forsaken him? Why was she all he could imagine, all he could think of - he'd taken woman after woman, whore after whore where he could find them, traversing lands that were at once alien and oh-so-familiar, desperately trying to forget, and yet one glimpse of her and he was reduced to a wreck of a man, chest aching, the pressure building, something clicking into place with a silent snap-

His eyes closed.

Somewhere deep within his mind, the Light bade him come home.

He ignored it.

_The week following..._

The rain sluiced down over the rooftops of Booty Bay, the late night air humid and thick with heat. A lone goblin wiped down the bar in the Inn, humming a particularly dirty little tune to himself and grinning as he mentally tallied the night's profits. It had been a good evening. A very, very good evening. Everyone had staggered to obscenely overpriced beds, guts full of obscenely overpriced food and beverage, too drunk to care and singing the whole damn time. At what cost? A tauren had upended a table. Easy fix. The goblin rummaged behind the counter for something to mend the leg with. Very soon people would be winding their way down for breakfast, hangovers or no, and it was best to be prepared.

A loud crack of thunder followed by the sharp crack of the door slamming back on its hinges, causing the goblin to jump, nearly cracking his head on the old wooden counter. One of those Draenei types slowly strode into the room. Unnerving, the lot of them - looked close enough to demons to unsettle him, and this one...

He tried to avoid his eyes. They glowed, to be sure, like all of them did - but the blue was...dark, forboding. It sucked the remaining vitality from the room as the creature turned his head this way and that, then stared down at the goblin, expressionless.

A question asked. The goblin answered it quickly, pointing a finger out the door in the general direction of the troll ruins, north of the ramshackle town.

The fall of coins on a counter, another crack of thunder seeming to follow the creature out the door and into the morning air.

Trembling, the goblin pocketed the gold, and shook his head, pondering the fate of the creature the Draenei was looking for, and wondering how much said creature had invested in the local bank, and how long it would take him before he could get his hands on it.

_Hours later..._

The beast strode through the forest, the expressionless face a deterrent to the inhabitants, causing both animal and troll to avoid it, ducking into the depths of the foliage and ruins as it passed. One lone gorilla chose not to get out of the way and received a mechanical blow to the head for its trouble, crushing its skull instantly. The beast, no, draenei, lifted the great hammer to his shoulder and continued on his way, leaving the corpse to rot in the midday sun.

And there, for an instant, he saw the shimmer of sunlight on pale flesh, darting among the leaves. The sky darkened with his eyes, rain beginning to fall in a quiet hush as he strode forward, purposefully, the pressure within roaring in his ears even as the sky broke, lightning flashing, he scented her, knew she was near...

He strode past the thick overgrown root, pausing mechanically, and turning to it. There. There was what he needed, what he craved, what would make the ache go away.

His eyes didn't register the terror reflected in hers as he tore through the thick brush to get to her.


	10. Chapter 10

Floored and frozen, she merely stared up at him, pinned by his eyes. His eyes...

She remembered the first time she'd seen them, so long ago - blue and shimmering with gentle regard as he'd healed her of her injuries. But no more - the eyes that bore into her own, the eyes that held her in place now held no hint of gentility, no hint of caring, no hint of anything but bestial lust. He towered over her, panting like a wild beast, and reached for her, and oh, she couldn't move and suddenly she was lifted in the air and he was sniffing her neck, nipping at it even as he tore her clothes from her, a low, possesive snarl escaping him, breath hot against her skin.

And by the gods, she found herself absolutely terrified. By his animalistic fervor, yes - but more so because somewhere between her thighs she was warm, she was wet, and she was singing with desire, and she liked it. She _liked_ it.

So when he bore her to his lips, crushing her with an insistent kiss, she moaned. When he bit her lower lip like an animal, she growled. When he forced her to her knees, presenting her with the cock she'd so often remembered with fondness, she gladly opened her mouth and took it in, tongue caressing the shaft with long, hard licks. Pale lips wrapped around the velvety skin, grippng him firmly and holding him there while her tongue danced over him. And when he groaned, it sent an electric jolt through her - and when his cock twitched, when his fingers moved to her hair, pulling it sharply and tangling it between his fingers, when he began to rock in and out of her, when he fucked her mouth as if it were nothing more than an object for him to empty his load into, she groaned, swallowed, sucked harder. And that warm, wet place grew more and more electrified by the second - the sound of the rain almost but not quite drowing out the wet noises her mouth was making as he pumped at it.

It was hours, but it seemed like mere moments before he gave one final grunt, his cock swelling within her. She knew what was coming and began to swallow almost before the thick cum burst forth, suckling the cream from him with a feral eagerness that frightened her almost as much as it made her body sing. He pulled from her lips with a soft pop, his fist squeezing a few last dribbles that she cleaned from him, tongue flicking over the satiny skin with an almost disappointed sigh that turned to a gasp of utter curiosity. For all the cum that now lay in her belly, he certainly wasn't showing any signs of slowing - indeed, if anything he was harder than before.

His eyes...his eyes showed no hint of any less ferocity than before. He grabbed her roughly, pushing her bare back to the grassy, rain-soaked forest floor and positioned himself over her. She attempted to adjust herself, but he didn't give her time for that, the mammoth shaft shoving into her with enough brutality to force the air from her lungs. She whimpered, weakly, and that only served to urge him on further, plunging in and out of her now-sopping pussy with almost violent thrusts.Her eyes closed, her teeth bit into her lower lip, her body grew warm, tense as a spring as she balanced on the brink of orgasm for what seemed like an eternity, lying there and letting him rut at her like an animal...

...and something grew within her, something strange...

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared up at him, wide-eyed and panicked - his eyes were shut at first, mouth slightly open, panting and shoving at her pussy until the tiny hands clawing at his arms offered enough distraction for him to open them and glare. Or he would have glared.

For there, in her eyes - there it was. His Light, shining in all its brilliance, and as he stared in shock, she smiled up at him. Beautifically, serenely, her body glowing with the sheen of a Naaru even as it moved and arched beneath him. The fingers that clawed at his arms mere moments before moved to his head and she cupped his face with those hands, so delicate and small - and there was his Light, there it was, he'd lost it so long ago and suddenly she was clasping him, her walls shuddering around him, she was singing her release to the heavens once more and the Light, oh the Light poured from her fingertips, filling him as completely as his seed filled her quaking womb.

The two of them arched, him above, she below, both panting noiselessly, the rain suddenly loud and roaring in their ears. He stared down at her, his eyes filled with shock, with self-loathing, with guilt. Hers stared into his, and without a word he understood all was forgiven, all was _always_ forgiven, and he gave one more strangled cry, her hands, her Light-filled hands pulling him to her chest, nestling him there, wrapping around him and stroking his skin, the Light moving from her, to him.

The rain continued - the heat of the evening sun causing a humid mist to mask the peaks and valleys of the thick jungle. And somewhere beneath the brush, covered in mud, two figures lay together, seemingly unconcerned as they slept naked as the day they were born. And they smiled.

They were never seen or heard from again, but there were none really to miss them. Oh the draenei spoke of him in hushed tones, warning their young with tales of the paladin that lost the Light. And the elves - well the elves never spoke of her really. A life of thievery and intrigue oft led to such deliberate ignorance.

...

But sometimes, some days, when the sun arched through the skies above the jungle just so, when the clouds began to weep their life-giving moisture from the heavens, travelers in the jungle could swear they heard laughter, clear and high and bell-like, chiming in the breeze. And sometimes, if one were to watch closely, one would see a flash of pale, a flash of azure, in that moment between sun and shade, shining like joyful stars, glimmering and beautiful, and gone in an instant.

_-end-_


End file.
